It was then a quarter after two o’clock. Nearly a half hour remained before leaving time. In spite of the plan proposed by Mr. Camp, Bud, it was further suggested, ought to lose no opportunity to mislead his almost certain pursuers. This meant that he should arrange his flight from the fair-grounds so that he would head west. That would take him away from Scottsville and toward a bit of low ground about four miles west of the fair-ground. Both sides of this were heavily timbered.
“Ef ye kin git down thar in the ‘slashins’ afore they git too clost to ye,” explained Mr. Camp, “an’ it ain’t too dangersome to git clost to the groun’, ye kin make a quick turn an’ shoot along in the valley till ye come to the ole Little Town road. An’ that’ll take ye furder in the hills. Like as not ye kin git clean away unbeknownst to ’em.”
“I’ll try it,” exclaimed Bud. “But I reckon it don’t matter much. We got ’em cinched if I ever get back here. And I’ll be here about a quarter to four,” he added.
Mr. Camp’s plan did credit to the old man’s ingenuity. This is how he explained it to Bud:
“Ye see the saw house down there?” he began. “Well, sir, ’at’s fifty feet long, or more. An’ ye see that track? They’s a car ’at runs on that to haul the logs into the shed to be sawed. When ye git back, ye’ll come right here and land afore the mill. Me an’ Josh an’ the hands’ll be waitin’ an’ the log car’ll be all ready. Afore ye kin say Jack Robison, we’ll have thet flying-machine on the log car an’ in the shed.”
“And the doors closed,” added Bud enthusiastically.
“Not by no means. That would be suspicious like ’cause they ain’t never shet. This afternoon, they’ll be two pulleys rigged up in the comb o’ the shed all ready to yank the flyin’-machine up agin the roof—clear o’ the car.”
“But they’ll see it!”
“They’ll be some pieces o’ timber all sawed to run acrost under the machine like as if it was a kind of a second floor. An’ they’ll be plenty o’ loose boards all stacked to lay on them jice. I been kind o’ needin’ a attic there any way,” laughed the grizzled mill owner. “An’ ef them jice is old timber an’ the floor is old boards, I reckon ain’t no one goin’ to suspicion it’s all been made suddent like. An’ it don’t ’pear to me any one’s goin’ to take the trouble to look up in the attic fur no airplane.”